Sawtooth Spire here goes the cold water

Last round!

Atuaserk fought against his hind paw as the rest of their group escaped to the confines of the den. He was becoming quite skilled at this paw to forehead thing. Ata was quite the rowdy little one and he was already beginning to fear the day when his foot would not be enough of a deterrent to hold him back. Until then, Iqniq would relish in his ability to control the boy. His nature was bold, but mentality could not protect his puppy thin coat from the heavy rains that were soon to follow.

Ping shot by. Tonravik, serving as an umbrella to Sitamat, made her way inside. Malrok was tucked away. All was well in the world. Good. He exhaled deeply and settled himself by the mouth of the den. The roar of the rapidly falling rain beat against the ground as the storm passed overtop their home. With a grunt, he lowered himself to his belly, but said no more about the storm. They could listen an observe. They could peek over his body to watch the rain if they so desired, but any more daring and he would nip them back into warm, dry safety of the den.

The rain would eventually pass. The world would begin to dry. A yawn escaped his muzzle. Perhaps in the morning they could play in the puddles and splash around a bit. Until then? He lazed inside and hoped the rain's rhythm would lure the children to sleep so he too might snooze along with them.